


A Day in the Life

by imaginary_iby



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_iby/pseuds/imaginary_iby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stand-alone tumblr ficlets.  There is a variety of ships and friendships within, and each ficlet is labeled accordingly.  </p><p>You'll find anything from Cath and Kono teaching Grace how to surf, to Danny and Max bonding over their Camaros.  There's also Danny and Kono lazing on the beach, Chin and Danny stuck in an elevator, and Kono taking a bullet for Steve.  Lots of random things, really!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day in the Life

_Cath, Kono and Grace._ Cath and Kono teach Grace how to surf and start a fire.

*

“What do you think, Grace, time for dinner?” Kono, sat astride her board, nodded in question back at the beach.

Grace stared longingly out at the approaching swells. After a few weeks of surfing lessons with Kono, she was just at that stage where she wasn’t falling off her board every ten seconds, and she was starting to have serious fun. The waves were still small but exciting, and she could remember Kono’s voice in her head asking her to be patient, promising her that they’d surf the big waves together, in due time.

Nevertheless, even over the noisy rush of the ocean, she could hear her tummy rumble. She looked back towards Catherine, who was busy bustling around on the sand and arranging campfire stones. 

Tummy rumbling again, Grace eyed off the big blue ice-chest that rested beside their little camp, filled with tasty salmon that was just waiting to be cooked.

Decision made. “One more go, Kono? We’ll ride the wave in?”

Kono smiled and nodded, before expertly falling to her belly on her board. “Okay kiddo, now remember what I told you about your feet!”

And with that, they were off like a shot.

-

Cackling, Gracie shook herself dry, enjoying the way Cath laughed and scrunched up her nose.

“You’re like a puppy, come on, sit down before you get seaweed on all the fish!”

“There’s no seaweed on me!” Grace yelped indignantly.

“Au contraire, my little monkey.” Cath knelt up and plucked a small green wisp from behind Grace’s hair, flinging it back into the water with a strong arm.

Exhausted but happy, and relieved to be rid of all sea-weedy accoutrements, Grace flopped down onto the sand. A few seconds later Kono joined her, and together they wiggled their wet toes into the sand before gratefully accepting fluffy blue towels from Cath.

Once everybody was dry and wrapped up in fresh clothes, it wasn’t just Grace’s tummy that was rumbling. They each turned their attention to dinner. 

Grace watched, captivated, as Cath picked up a peculiar looking bundle of sticks. Beside her, Kono plucked a delicious looking fish from the ice-chest with one hand, the other curling around a long knife.

Grace didn’t know where to look first. “What’re you guys doing?”

“I’m going to fillet the fish,” Kono began. “You don’t want to eat fish eye-balls, do you? Blech.”

“Blech!” Grace agreed.

Cath nodded enthusiastically. “And I’m going to start the fire. See how I’ve built the fire-pit?” She pointed at the circle of stones she’d been organizing earlier, whilst Grace had been surfing. “This is to keep the fire contained, and the stones will help us cook the fish.”

Gracie nodded in understanding, then pointed at the strange bow-like stick that Cath was holding. “And what’s that?”

“This,” Cath held up the long, slightly arched stick. “Is to help me spark the fire. You don’t always need matches to get a fire going, not if you know what you’re doing.”

Fascinated, Grace took the bowed stick from her, turning it this way and that and inspecting it closely. “Can you guys teach me?”

“Sure thing, Grace-face,” Kono said with a smile.

Cath beckoned Grace closer. “Yeah, come here hon, we’ll show you.”

\---------  
\---------  
\---------

 _Steve/Danny and Grace._ Trying to stir up some mischief, Grace conveniently forgets that Steve is a SEAL, and starts calling him a variety of marine animals.

*

“Yeah, totally, I know right? Anyway, I’m staying with my Uncle Steve whilst mum and Danno sort out the old house. He’s in the Navy! He’s a Dolphin!”

And with that, Gracie was off like a shot, chasing after her friends. She flicked a distracted wave back at Steve as she disappeared into her classroom, already swept up in the hustle and bustle of teenage life.

Stunned, and more than a little lost, Steve lingered in the hallway for longer than he cared to admit. Dolphin?

-

“Don’t freak out, Danno.”

With deliberate gentleness, Danny clicked his fork onto his dinner plate. Beside him, Steve shuffled his papers into a haphazard stack before abandoning them altogether.

Deciding to get it over with, Grace handed over her letter from school. “They had career counselors out this week. We had to answer all these questions about stuff we like doing.” It took all of her strength to stop from laughing at Steve and Danny’s scarily identical expressions - it was all about the suspiciously raised eyebrows. Sometimes she thought about suggesting they spend some time apart, for fear that they’d melt into one person, but they seemed grumpily-happiest when together.

With a sigh, Danny flicked the letter open, shifting his shoulder to accommodate Steve, who had shuffled his chair closer. 

Sensing an impending parental meltdown, Grace decided to bite the bullet and then make a run for it. “It seems that I’m suited for a career in law-enforcement and the military. Apparently, I’d make an excellent walrus. So yeah anyway, I’m going to Tracey’s around the corner to finish our biology project, see you later!”

She’d just started scooting her bike down the front path when she heard Steve’s indignant, “walrus?!”

-

Steve didn’t really have a lot of experience with kids. Sure, he was comfortable around Gracie, but he’d had years to learn her ways. Her gaggle of school friends, on the other hand, had him stymied. And kind of wanting to make a run for it. 

“Me, me, me!” They all shouted, clamoring for a piece of birthday cake. “Steve! Steve! Hey, Mr. Porpoise! Mr. Porpoise guy! Please can we have some cake?”

One of the girls rounded on one of the boys. “He’s not a porpoise, Joe! He’s a narwhal! Navy guys are tough, and Narwhals have massive tusks!”

Confused, and choosing to ignore Danny’s paroxysms of laughter, Steve held the cake up out of reach. “Right! What is going on here?”

The kids all looked up at him innocently. “Grace-face said you were a Narwhal,” proffered one of the girls.

The boys all shook their heads. “No, no, she said you were a Porpoise.”

Choosing not to rise above the occasion, Danny chimed in, “I thought you were a walrus?”

Steve shot him a withering glare before returning his attention to the kids. “Guys. I am a SEAL. Sea, Air and Land. None of this walrus stuff, okay?”

Both boys and girls collectively shook their heads. “No way man, that’s silly.”

Giving up, and surrendering the cake to them, Steve turned to stare at Gracie.

She looked right at him. Never breaking eye-contact, she lifted her can of coke and took a sip. The can, sparkling red in the Hawaiian sunshine, did absolutely nothing to hide the magnificently cheeky and high-voltage smirk she was beaming his way.

\---------  
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\---------

 _Danny and Max, friendship/pre-relationship._ A trip to the Camaro dealership results in Danny becoming obsessed with acrostic puzzles.

*

With an impatient sigh, Danny crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Max? Really? Of all the colours you could pick, you went with canary yellow?” He kicked the front tire of the monstrous Camaro dubiously, as if worried that it would fall apart in a cloudy heap of nuts and bolts.

Max frowned, a curious blend of indignant and confused. “I would appreciate it greatly if you did not manhandle my vehicle.” 

It took him all of two seconds to hook the cuff of his shirt over his knuckles, reaching down to wipe away an imaginary scuff. “Also - please do not be fooled. As a connoisseur of Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate and Battlestar Galactica, I am more than capable - dare I say, more capable than you - of assessing a vehicle’s coolness factor. To use the jock vernacular, of course.”

Danny’s eyebrow arched even closer to his hairline. “You’re quoting Star Trek at me now? Just, please, stop, okay? Do me a favor and stop. Go back to your paper already, read the comics or something.”

Silently, they made their way over to a rickety table and chairs, the only noise being the tinkering and hammering of the Camaro dealership’s mechanics as they finished up on Danny’s car. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to think that getting their cars serviced on the same day was a good idea, but he suspected it had been the slightly hopeful glint in Max’s eye. 

Danny was just mentally wording an offering of peace-coffee, (he wasn’t one for apologies), when he caught sight of what Max was doing. He certainly wasn’t reading the comics, that was for sure. Frowning, Danny scanned the title of the page, a small heading the proceeded a strange collection of crosswords and boxes and mind-bogglers. “The fuck’s an acrostic puzzle?”

Max, obviously still puffed up in defense of his car, looked up from his paper with pitying eyes. “It’s something that you will never solve.”

And thus, began Danny’s descent into madness.

-

Wikipedia was a nightmare. Yahoo answers was ridiculous. Even those flimsy $2 puzzle books from the newsagents were only so much help. But gosh darnit, Danny was a detective. If he could catch a murderer, he could catch the hang of acrostic puzzles.

Stake-outs with Steve offered the perfect opportunity to wear through several pencils. “Bpp bpp bpp!” Danny would scold, pointer finger held high whenever Steve looked like he was contemplating providing a clue. Those Naval Intelligence days had obviously paid off. 

And then, one afternoon: “Booyeah, take that!” he shouted triumphantly at his newspaper, pumping a fist into the air. 

From across the Silverado, Steve sighed. “Way to give away our position, Danny.”

Danny shrugged, folding up the paper with the utmost care and sliding it into the glove-box for safe-keeping. “Totally worth it.” He flicked the safety off his gun. “Totally worth it.”

-

Happily, Danny pulled up to Kamekona’s shrimp truck, parking next to Max’s Camaro. He ran a hand over his hair, plucked the folded newspaper from where it sat on the passenger seat, and made his way over to the team’s trusty table. “Read it and weep, Max, read it and weep.” He shoved the paper in front of Max’s nose.

Silence reigned, as Max scanned the puzzle, looking for fault. Eventually, his half-rimmed glasses lifted upwards, taking in Danny’s triumphant expression with an odd spark of indulgence. “Well done, Detective,” he said around a small smile.

At the words, Danny’s investigative brain relaxed. He’d solved the case, as it were, and now all he wanted was a cold beer with friends. 

Once the shrimp arrived and the Longboards were uncapped, he looked out at their Camaros, both yellow and silver glinting attractively in the sun. “Well,” he said softly to Max. “Maybe the yellow’s not so bad after all.”

Max beamed.

“And I’ll tell you what, Mr. Star Trek,” Danny continued. “I’ll see your Battlestar Galactica, and I’ll raise you Back to the Future. Hoverboards have a way higher coolness factor than cars. To use the jock vernacular, of course.”

Max took a sip of his lemonade. “It’s on.”

\---------  
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\---------

 _Steve/Cath + Danny._ Cath and Danny strike up a friendship, and Steve spends a lot of time being confused by, well, everything.

*

From across his cup of tea, Steve watched as Cath raced around the kitchen, opening cupboards and rifling through the fruit bowl. “Did you lose something?”

She paused in her flurry about the room to raise an eyebrow at him and tut. “Can’t find my keys.” With that, she resumed her hunt, poking through the cutlery drawer with nimble fingers. 

Steve waggled his eyebrows suggestively, radiating ridiculous charm. “We could just stay in, don’t have to go anywhere.”

Cath laughed softly, a lovely little blend of patience and impatience. She was just starting to hunt through a pile of paperwork when the doorbell rang. “Aha, found them!” Triumphant, she scooped the keys out from beneath the folders. “Could you get the door, I need to put my boots on.”

Eternally perplexed at how on earth she could be serenely organized as a Sailor and yet completely scattered when at home - she was just now hopping about the kitchen, tugging her left shoe on - Steve went to answer the door.

…to find Danny standing on the other side. 

Steve sighed, happy to see his friend but also sad to kiss his evening goodbye. Spending time with Danny was one of the things that he loved most in the world - as was spending time with Cath. But he hadn’t yet figured out how exactly to combine the two.

Danny snorted, looking more amused and indignant than insulted. “Nothing quite like the disappointment in your partner’s eyes when they open the door to find out that it’s you.”

Steve immediately felt guilty. “Come on man, you know it’s not like that. We need to… what was Grace watching the other day? When I Met Your Mom? We need to institute a bro-code or something.”

“How I Met Your Mother,” Danny corrected. “And relax, Rambo, I’m not here for you.”

Emerging from the kitchen with boots on and keys in hand, Cath chimed in, “Navy, Danny. _Naaaavy._ ”

Confused, Steve swung his gaze between them.

Danny chuckled, far more patiently than he ever did with Steve. “I remember _you’re_ in the Navy. Him, though, well I suspect he’s just in Crazyville. You all set?” He raised his eyebrows at her enquiringly.

She nodded, scooping up her handbag from beside the door and leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.

Steve frowned, lifting his fingers to his face. “What.”

Again, Danny snorted, eyeing Steve with a twinkle of amusement. “We’re going for a drink. Did you know that Cath has a younger sister about Grace’s age? She’s a fountain of wisdom. But you wouldn’t be interested in that, don’t stress, I’m not going to regale you with The Tales of Almost-Teenagerdom.”

Steve was fully prepared to object that he was always interested in Gracie, even if he might not always _seem_ it, when Danny steam-rolled on.

“Plus, we both use the same H&K P30. That reminds me,” Danny swung his gaze to Cath. “I need to get the name of that gun store off you, there’s just something not quite right with my new sidearm. This woman isn’t crazy, is she?”

“Yeah, here we go…” Cath trailed off as she hunted through her bag. Eventually, she produced a small white card. “And no, she’s not crazy, very strict about her clientele. I told her that you were a friend, so you’ll get the Rollins discount.”

“You’re a star. Shall we? I was thinking that we could try Leilani’s this time, since we can never show our faces at Figueros again.” His tone was accusatory, but his eyes were happily crinkled.

They began to head down the path, all familiar ease. “Hey, if some drunk idiot thinks that it’s okay to slap my ass, you can be damned sure I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”

Steve, still stood by the front door and drowning in sheer puzzlement, watched as Danny raised his hands deferentially. “Are you kidding me, it was amazing.”

At the end of the path, Steve spied their cars glinting in the sun’s last sparkles for the day. He was just pondering whether or not to haul out the Marquis in an attempt to prove that he was cool too, when he was pulled from his thoughts by hoots of raucous laughter.

He looked up to find Cath and Danny practically falling all over themselves, Cath with a hand pressed to her mouth and Danny leaning against a tree for support. “Come on, idiot!” he called out. “Stop being a goof and hurry up!”

Beaming, Steve scooped up his wallet, kicked the door shut and headed towards them. Cath slipped her hand into his with an indulgent roll of her eyes, and Danny swung an arm up around his shoulders, pulling him down into an awkward stoop. “You’re hopeless, babe.”

To the accompaniment of Cath and Danny’s laughter, the three of them set off towards the Camaro.

\---------  
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\---------

 _Chin/Danny._ Danny wants to learn more about Chin's family, so Kono attempts to explain the Kelly/Kalakaua clan.

*

With a tired sigh, Chin kneeled slowly and began to scoop up the dozens of papers that he’d just dropped all over the corridor floor. He could hear the blur of Danny and Kono’s chatter from inside the bull-pen, and he looked up, hoping to catch their eye.

They were both sporting extremely studious expressions, hunched over the tech table as if the recipe for the Philosopher’s Stone was upon its screen. Kono was poking and pointing at the glass, her fingers flying from left to right and from top to bottom. Danny’s eyes tracked her movements efficiently, but Chin knew him well enough to understand that the crinkle of his brow meant that he was worried. 

Curious, Chin shifted forward, slowly cobbling the papers together into a stack and turning an ear to their conversation.

“No, no, she’s not married to him.” Kono spoke softly, her fingers darting over the table with even greater speed. “She’s married to him.”

Danny’s whole face scrunched up in confusion. “Wait wait wait, I thought Leilani lived in Kahuku? Three kids, dog called Alberto, and the Black Sheep of a husband who doesn’t like surfing. I tell you, I want to meet this husband, I can already feel a bond forming between us. A bond of friendship and mutual distaste for any kind of salt that doesn’t come on my fries.”

Chin knew how Kono felt about having a family member who didn’t like surfing, so he wasn’t surprised when she ignored Danny’s jest. “No, you’re thinking of Leilani Kelly. I’m talking about Leilani Kalakaua, who lives in-“

“Hold up, hold up!” Danny flapped his hands into the air, protesting. “Just how many Leilanis is your family hiding, Kalakaua?”

Kono rolled her eyes, tapping the screen to show - presumably - the seven Leilanis that revolved around the Kelly-Kalakaua-Kahuanui-Kahaulelio clan.

Chin wasn’t even remotely surprised when Danny’s eyebrows began their steady ascent into his blonde hair-line.

Beginning to feel a fool for being crouched in the corridor like a common thief, Chin rose, tucking the papers securely under his arm. As he reached for the door, he heard Kono continue.

“No, no, he’s twice removed on the mother’s side. Walks with a green cane shaped like a dragon’s neck, always has a macaw called Cognac on his shoulder. Trust me brah, you’ll know him when you see him.”

Chin laughed loudly as the door swung shut behind him, thinking of the many family gatherings that had devolved into screaming matches between the bird and the feisty older women that formed the Kelly-Kalakaua-Kahuanui-Kahaulelio matriarchal circle.

To his surprise, Danny and Kono jumped 6 feet in the air apiece, Kono’s fingers flittering over the screen and rendering it blank. “Cousin!” Her greeting was loud and falsely cheerful - a sure sign that she was keeping secrets. “Didn’t see you there. Danny and I were just… that is to say, we were just…”

Danny piped in, glowering at Kono. “Just going over that case from last week.”

Chin wasn’t even remotely convinced, and he knew that his raised eyebrow conveyed that clearly. 

Kono nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Yes, yes, good thinking Danny!” She whispered this from the side of her mouth, before coughing awkwardly. “I mean, uh, yes, cuz, going over the case from last week.” Grimacing at her less than stellar act, she hooked a hand over her shoulder. “So, we’re just, you know, we’re just gonna go. And… yeah.”

They scattered like the wind, retreating to their respective offices.

Undecided as to whether or not he should investigate further, Chin tapped his fingers against the table, staring down at the blank screen with an expression of both amusement and bemusement. An open folder rested on the chair that Danny had dragged over, and he shifted forward to scan its contents. 

It was an unfolded A3 piece of paper, covered from corner to corner with a ridiculously detailed family tree that spanned the entirety of Chin and Kono’s numerous relatives. Danny’s chicken-scratch was scrawled all over, little notes like, Chin’s bike buddy, taught him how to fire a shot-gun, and, this one gets defensive about pineapple on pizza, try to shut up, Williams, written in the margins.

He was pulled from his study of the diagram by Kono sidling up to his side, plucking the folder from his hands and closing it gingerly. “I’ll just take that, thank you.” She stepped back as if to return to the sanctuary of her office, but then she hesitated, nodding at Danny who sat as his desk.

“He came to me a few weeks ago, nervous and offering me every pastry under the sun if I’d just help him figure out our family. We can be a lot to take, cuz. The names alone. I don’t think there’s a lot of Kahaulelios in Jersey.” 

Chin felt a warmth begin to bloom in his belly, and he flicked his gaze over to Danny’s office. 

Caught staring, Danny quickly turned to study his computer screen with intense focus, slouching down into his seat as if he wanted to crawl under his desk.

Deciding to take pity on him, Chin returned his attention to Kono and left Danny and his pink-tipped ears in peace.

Kono smiled softly, affectionately, indulgently. “He’s trying, cuz. He’s trying for you.”

\---------  
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 _Steve/Danny + Grace._ The father/daughter dance, three years on.

*

He watches Grace twirl around the living room, arms outstretched and a big goofy grin on her face. 

She spins faster and faster, the royal blue of her skirts flying this way and that, sequins catching in the afternoon sunlight and glittering prettily.

“Woah, Monkey, slow down, you’re going to crash into something!” He chuckles as she pulls to a stop, wobbling a little and blinking her eyes owlishly up at him.

As she finds her bearings, the sparkly hem of her dress sashays to and fro before finally coming to a rest around her knees. He can’t believe how pretty she is, all spruced up with her hair back in a messy bun - it’s the style, dad! “Have I told you lately how lovely you look?”

She rolls her eyes, abashed but pleased. “Only once a day.” Smoothing a small hand down over the front of the dress, she fingers an errant sequin. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” she says with a nod, taking in his dark blue suit.

He performs a small bow of thanks, twirling his hand theatrically until she giggles. As he’s straightening up, he suddenly finds himself with an armful of her, wrapped around him tightly and giving him a squeeze.

“Thank you for buying me my dress, I really really love it. We’re going to have a great time at the dance tonight.”

He presses his nose to the top of her head, breathing her in and giving her a much more gentle squeeze in return. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

They’re just beaming at each other like fools when suddenly they’re being yelled at. Affectionately, of course.

“Hey hey hey!” Danny protests, walking down the stairs and fiddling with the cuff of his dress shirt. “What’s all this hugging? I disappear for two seconds to brush my teeth and that means I have to miss out?”

Steve rolls his eyes.

Danny tuts at him, slipping into his suit jacket, a lovely black cut. “Don’t do that, what are you, four? You’re setting a bad example for the littluns.”

Steve rests a hand on top of Gracie’s head. “She’s not so little anymore, babe.” A devious smirk settles on his lips. “Well, she still is to me. You?” He waves a hand at Danny’s general stature. “You, not so much.”

Danny snorts. “Are you casting aspersions on my height? That’s original.”

Before Steve can answer, he feels a pair of small hands on his back, pushing him forward towards the door. 

“Oh my god you two!” Gracie exclaims. Having herded Steve to the exit, she returns for Danny, grabbing his hand and tugging. “It’s like herding sheep! Come onnnnnnn, we’re going to be late for the dance!”

Danny grins at Steve over the top of Gracie’s head. “Hop to, Sailor Boy, we can’t miss this.”

\---------  
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 _Danny/Kono._ A day at the beach.

*

“I don’t know how you do it.” Flinging an arm over his eyes, Danny wiggled a little in the sand, trying to dislodge a particularly insistent shell from where it was poking him in the small of his back.

Beside him, tucked close to his side, Kono chuckled softly. “Lots of practice. You’ll be a pro in no time.”

Danny snorted. “No, not the surfing. We could be here twenty years from now and I’d still be a goof. I mean, I don’t know how you put up with this sun. You always come home looking all sparkly and… what’s the word, sun-kissed. I think that’s what the magazines are calling it these days. Anyway, whatever, my point is that I’m always the schmuck who’s zero to lobster in twenty seconds flat, and you are the eternal sea-nymph.”

Danny took in Kono’s silence - he didn’t need to uncover his eyes to have her expression firmly in his mind. “Okay, so, I can sense your mocking. Don’t think for a second that I am fooled, sweetheart. Just because I have my eyes shut doesn’t mean I don’t know the exact little grin you’ve got going on.”

Nimble fingers worked their way into his side, poking until he let out a less than dignified squawk. “Alright alright alright!” he yelped, shying away from her. “You win!”

Her victorious laugh rolled out, starting slow and deep and ending light and exuberant. “Seriously, Danny? A sea-nymph?”

Danny sniffed indignantly, finally flopping his arm down and opening his eyes. Rolling to his side, he leaned up on an elbow to look down at her. “I was trying to pay you a compliment.” He couldn’t resist smoothing his hand over the taut plane of her belly, enjoying the feel of each inhalation and exhalation against his fingertips.

She peered up at him, eyes seemingly unaffected by the sharp sun but definitely affected by the feel of his hand on her skin. “Try harder.”

With little fuss and even less finesse, he rolled on top of her, taking a second to enjoy the way she threw her head back a little to let out another laugh. 

Just as she was slinging her arms around his neck, tilting her head up in search of a kiss - just as he had her right where he wanted her - he shook himself roughly, covering her with sand.

She yelped, trying to wiggle out from under him and cover her face at the same time.

Having shaken himself off thoroughly, he decided that it was high-time to make a run for it. Hauling back, he planted his feet firmly in the sand and pushed up and off her, sprinting down into the water without daring to look back. Curse her ridiculously long legs. (He could never, really, he was far too in love with them).

He’d just made it far enough into the surf that he was contemplating diving down, when he felt those familiar nimble fingers hook into the waist of his boardies and tug. “No! Don’t you dare, Kalakaua!

\---------  
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\---------

 _Steve + Danny_ , coda to 2.15.

*

It’s a mad scramble to the Camaro, his heart in his throat, lungs burning with panic. Rachel’s cries are ringing only faintly in his ears, the screams of beach-goers dulled to a low hum. 

In the back of his mind he knows that his opinion of Step-Stan has been forever changed. He knows that he’ll see that nod of acceptance - acceptance of death, for Grace - every single night when he goes to sleep.

He can’t think about that now. His fingers skid over the hood of the car as he propels forward, flinging himself gracelessly to the driver’s door.

It is only when he crashes into Steve’s side that he realizes his partner has hurtled towards the car as well, all wide eyes and fast feet. Danny doesn’t have time to launch into a spiel about driving his own car, he _needs_ to get to his daughter.

His fingers fumble at the handle, thumbs slipping awkwardly. The steely composure of a cop who’s had to pull the trigger many many times is long forgotten. Only seconds before, he’d been ruthlessly calm; but as he now struggles to simply get into his car, he can feel that composure slipping away.

Steve is reaching for the latch too, his fingers tangling with Danny’s in his haste to pull the door open. After a few fruitless seconds, Steve stops, flicks his wrist and grips Danny’s hand tightly, squeezing. “I got this, partner,” Steve says softly. “I got this.”

Danny stills, takes a deep breath. Steve is always driving his car, bugging him for the keys, keeping them half the time and just generally being an endearing nuisance. 

But this. This is the most important thing that they’ve ever done. The upcoming miles to the storage unit are the most precious and the most dangerous miles that he’ll ever travel.

In a second, he makes his decision. He trusts Steve, trusts his partner to get him to his daughter. “Okay.” He looks up and their eyes catch, sparks of panic and reassurance flying between them. “Okay.” 

With that, he nods resolutely, squares his shoulders and rounds the hood of the Camaro to the passenger-side door. With steady fingers he pulls open the handle. “Okay.”

\---------  
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 _Steve/Danny._ In response to [this picture.](http://mcgrathed.tumblr.com/post/36376906882)

*

“Are you seriously ignoring me right now?” Danny scrunched up his face distastefully, half in irritation at the sun, half in irritation at his partner. “You are, I don’t believe it, you’re ignoring me.”

Resolute, Steve continued to tap away at his phone, slowly twirling his umbrella in a show of indifference.

Danny plonked his own shade down closer to his head, hoping to more effectively repel the beams of blinding sunlight. “Who sees a couch on the beach and thinks: hey, let’s have sex! Eh? Eh? We don’t even know where this couch came from, or what it’s doing here! It could have… I don’t know, germs or something!”

Steve narrowed his eyes, smudging his thumb against the screen of his phone rather violently. 

Danny slouched down further into the couch, extending a foot and poking Steve’s thigh hopefully. “Stop it, you’re a goof, stop pouting.” He nudged Steve’s thigh again, hoping to elicit a smile.

It worked. The tiniest tremor appeared at the corner of Steve’s lip, a brief curving upwards of soft pink skin. The more Danny stared, the more he began to entertain Steve’s idea. 

Feeling his determination waver, he sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes and huffing at the supreme hardship that was his life. “Fine, fine, you win!” He slumped even further down, coming to rest awkwardly on his back and settling his umbrella in the sand.

It was the work of but a second for Steve to crawl on top of him, smile as bright as the sun. He nestled himself between Danny’s legs, a few feet too tall for the couch but making it work anyway.

“I’m warning you right now, Steven,” Danny grumbled. “If I get sunburn on my ass, there will be hell to pay.”

\---------  
\---------  
\---------

 _Chin/Danny._ Chin and Danny, trapped in an elevator.

*

With an almighty huff, Danny crossed his arms and slouched against the wall – all four sides of the tiny elevator were covered in shiny glass, and he caught Chin’s eye via reflection. “Don’t even think about it.”

Chin, eternally cool under pressure, began to raise an eyebrow.

“No!” Danny sprung forward, waving his arms around until his hands gravitated naturally to Chin’s biceps. They had a pesky habit of doing that. “Do not, with the eyebrows. Read my lips Chin Ho Kelly: don’t even think about it.”

Chin flicked his gaze up, as though inspecting his own brow, then smoothed his face into something expressionless. “Calm down, Danny.”

Danny, more than a little distracted by the curve of Chin’s muscles, made the ultimate sacrifice – he released his grip, pointing agitatedly at the elevator’s control panel. “I need. To press. The buttons.”

At this, Chin shook his head, taking those last few inches into Danny’s space and looking down at him softly. There was a question in his eye, no doubt about it.

With Chin pressed so close, Danny immediately calmed a little. The gentle puff of Chin’s breath against his temple eased the near tangible thrum of directionless energy that was emanating from his clammy skin. “I’m not claustrophobic. I just hate sitting around, stuck in here, whilst there’s some creep running around out there trying to kill our team. I need to go. I need to do something. I hate this.”

He felt Chin’s nod of understanding, followed by a brief touch of lips to his skin. 

“Maintenance said it shouldn’t be too long,” Chin began. “They know we’re a priority.” With that, he tugged Danny forward, leaning back against the wall and settling Danny by his side.

Danny still felt irritable at the edges, and he knew that Chin would pick up on it – Chin knew him better than most. Suddenly feeling guilty, and needing a little physical comfort, he hip-checked Chin, burrowing into his side. It was too hot in the stuffy little elevator for excessive touch, but he immediately felt better being so close to Chin’s body.

Their gazes caught in the mirror, and Danny smiled, a soft and hesitant little quirk of his lips. “Even if we are stuck, I’m glad I’m stuck with you.”

\---------  
\---------  
\---------

 _Steve/Chin/Danny._ It’s laundry day, and nobody can figure out who owns what underwear.

*

“Those are mine.” Danny tugged the blue briefs from Steve’s hands, tucking them under his elbow possessively. “And I’ll take that, thank you.” This time, he liberated the coffee cup that Steve had been holding. 

He took a soothing sip, sighing contently as the cobwebs of sleep slowly brushed away - his satisfaction, however, was ruined when Chin’s fingers wormed their way into his side.

“No, those are mine.” Chin snagged the briefs, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans. They were the only thing that he was wearing, pale blue denim contrasting deliciously with his skin and his muscles and his everything. For a second Danny was too enthralled to protest.

Only for a second, mind you. 

“They’re not yours!” Danny eventually yelped, too distracted to notice Steve stealing the coffee cup back. Danny tried to slide his hands into Chin’s pocket, attempting a diversion-kiss and grumbling when Chin chuckled and pushed him away.

Steve, still stood beside the washing machine, curled around the cup protectively, bringing it to rest beneath his nose and breathing it in. He was nothing but long naked legs and a mop of ruffled brown hair poking over the top of the pale red ceramic. The underwear momentarily forgotten, he luxuriated in the smell - he’d never really needed coffee until his life had been taken over by two morning tragics.

By the time he’d worked his way through half of the cup, Chin had given up completely on pretending to not want kisses. Steve watched them, half sleepy and half turned on, as they gripped and groped and stroked and licked, pressed snug against the laundry door.

Steve wasn’t a Lieutenant-Commander for nothing, and a plan was swiftly hatched. Innocently, he placed the cup aside, stalking forward and pressing up against Chin’s back. He dropped a few hot, wet kisses to the slope of Chin’s shoulder, inching forward to kiss Danny full on the mouth when Chin tilted his head to the side for breath. Three sets of hips worked against each other, a steady push and pull, the door creaking in response to their combined weight.

Chin, enjoying the slide of hands up up up his thighs, didn’t notice Steve’s fingers dipping into his back pocket until it was too late. “They’re not yours!” both Chin and Danny growled, disentangling and shoving at Steve. “You wear black, you goof,” Danny added.

Steve retreated swiftly, knowing better than to take his eyes off the enemy, even for a second. Once he had his back safely to the washing machine, he held up the briefs in one hand, the very picture of victorious. “I’m a SEAL, guys, you really think I can’t defend my own underwear?”

Two sets of mischievously determined eyes swept along his body, and he couldn’t help but gulp a little.

A mere ten minutes later, he was flat on his back, bare ass on Chin’s discarded jeans and chest heaving. He’d lost his hold on the underwear, (which had been flung off into the corner), but it wasn’t a real loss - not when there was an orgasm involved. To say nothing of the fact that both Chin and Danny were sprawled either side of him, also trying to catch their breath.

Eventually, Chin rolled over, propping himself up on an elbow and inspecting them with a lazy gaze. “Maybe we should designate colors? Steve, you wear black-” he poked his finger to Steve’s arm, “-Danny, you wear blue-” the same finger was pressed above Danny’s nose, “-I’ll wear green-” he hooked his thumb back at his chest.

Danny scoffed, though it was lessened by the fact that he busy nestling his head to Steve’s shoulder. He was, without fail, the most tragic orgasm-induced cuddler of the three. “Color coordination to that level is tragic, babe. Maybe we could label them?”

Chin wasn’t the sort to scoff, though it was a near thing. “You’ve just been too involved in getting Grace’s school stuff ready, Steve and I have been plotting to take the label maker away from you. Besides, are you really trying to tell me that labeling underwear isn’t tragic?”

Danny looked geared up to argue, then conceded with a full-body sigh.

“Guys, it’s fine I have a solution.” Steve radiated an aura of magnanimity, and if his arms hadn’t been trapped under two sweaty bodies, he probably would have waved his hands grandly. 

As it was, he wiggled his hips happily, brushing against both Danny and Chin’s naked skin. “We don’t need underwear, anyway.”

\---------  
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\---------

 _Danny/Kono + Grace._ Kono is a terrible cook.

*

Danny’s barely stepped through the door before Grace is wrapped around his arm, tugging him into the house.

“What, what’s wrong? Where did you even come from?” He hadn’t seen her coming, and for the fifth time in as many days he resolves to speak to Steve and Kono about teaching his daughter covert maneuvers and stealth attacks. Just the other day he’d caught Grace counting the number of steps from the kitchen sink to the back door. Whilst blind-folded.

She looks up at him sternly, her lips crinkled together as she shushes him. “Come on, come on!” With one final tug, she hauls him into the little downstairs bathroom, whispering the door shut and flicking the lock.

She is the very picture of seriousness, turning to inspect him with an eagle eye. “Kono made cupcakes.”

Danny doesn’t sit down on the toilet lid in despair, but it’s a near thing. “I see.” Even the mere memory of crunching his way through chocolatey egg shells makes him feel week in the knees.

Grace nods, as though relieved that her father is finally aware of the gravity of the situation. “Now, look.” She crosses her arms impatiently, just like he does when confronted with the tech table; the quirk of her eyebrow is eerily reminiscent of Chin, and the jut of her hip to the side reminds him of both Kono and Rachel. The take-charge, you will do as I say and you will do it now attitude comes from Steve.

“Mom told me to tell you not to coddle Kono. Just because she’s pregnant doesn’t mean she’s stupid. Besides, we both know she could kill you with her brain, if she wanted to.”

Danny can’t help but scoff. “You talk a big game for someone who had to be carried up the stairs for six years. It was New Jersey, not Hogwarts, there was no trick step.”

Grace, not able to fight her natural Williams instincts, untangles her arms so that she can wave her hands about. “That’s not the point! The point is that Kono is a bit… I don’t know. Sensitive, about these cupcakes. So I think we should just give her this one. Respect the kill-shot, but also respect the cupcake.”

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me where you learned that phrase, so that I can kill the person responsible. Actually, never mind, Steve’s coming around for dinner, I’ll just murder him then.”

Grace’s whole face lights up, as though she’s taking inventory of all the ninja-type things she’s been storing up, ready to report. Her joy is short-lived when Kono calls through the house.

“Grace, they’re ready!”

The Williams battle-ready expression is twice-affixed, and side by side they exit the bathroom. 

Danny had been expecting worse, so he’s relieved to find the kitchen still in one piece. In his heart of hearts, he knows that he doesn’t really have much of a leg to stand on: both he and Kono had tried to make frittatas for Grace one morning, before little hands had chased them from the kitchen. “Just stop, please, just stop,” Grace had begged, expertly flipping things and chopping greens whilst poking the smoke-detector with the broom handle.

Kono looks faintly adorable in her apron, her big belly stretching the palm tree emblazoned across the front. Only she could live the cliché, with little smears of flour across her nose.

She seems to swing between feeling nesty, and wanting to hunt down purse-snatchers and miscreants on foot for a bit of afternoon fun. He tries to leave her be, go along with whatever she wants, but he’d bribed Grace with double pocket-money for help that one time Kono had gone after the creepy neighbor with a spatula.

“What do you think?” Kono pokes a cupcake with a skewer, pulling it out to reveal it covered in drippy batter. “I know the book says they’re not supposed to be like that. But I’ve already cooked them for an extra twenty minutes, so they must be ready, right?”

Grace stomps on his foot. Hard. Mischievous thing that she is, she manages to look completely innocent as she does so, beaming at Kono and reaching for a cupcake.

Trying not to wince, he arranges his face into what he hopes is a smile. “They look great, babe.”

\---------  
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\---------

 _Team-fic._ When Kono takes a bullet for Steve, the team camps out in her hospital room.

*

Steve doesn’t quite know how Danny always manages to get away with it. More to the point, he doesn’t quite know how Danny can even say it at all, always living to see another day, never being swallowed up by awkwardness. 

It seems to be second nature to Danny in a way that it’s not, to him. He feels the same way that Danny does, and he wants to express himself - wants to tell Kono that he’s so fucking grateful she’s okay, because he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. But whenever he tries, his throat feels dry and uncooperative.

Just like now.

He watches as Danny leans over Kono’s hospital bed, hand cupped to her cheek with an effortlessly gentle touch. “I love you, sweetheart,” he says as he kisses her forehead, finding a patch of skin that’s not scratched and bruised. “I love you. Don’t scare me like that, okay?”

Kono blinks blearily, looking exhausted and oddly tiny, pale in her misshapen green gown. Nevertheless, ever since waking up, there’s been a stubborn set to her jaw. It’s as if she’s telling the world that she’s not going to be taken down by something so prosaic as a gunshot wound. 

Only now, the room empty save for her team – Danny with his hand to her face; Chin passed out in the chair beside her bed, head pillowed near her hip on the mattress; Steve standing guard at the door, fully prepared to decimate anything that might try to enter and cause his team harm - does she finally relax and let her guard down.

She tries to roll to her side, as though turning to look at him. It’s a visually painful movement, and it has Chin spring awake instantly.

“Stop it, stop moving,” he scolds, wrapping his hands around her lithe limbs and arranging her until she’s happy. They’re physically familiar with each other in a way that speaks of years lived side by side: bumping elbows at the Kelly/Kalakaua dinner table, jostling for the last of the potato salad; Kono, despite her feather-light frame, never afraid to wrestle her cousin for the remote. 

(And that was only last week).

“You okay, boss?”

From his self-assigned station by the door, Steve’s stomach twists, overwhelmed with affection for this wonderful woman who’s out to save the world. He wants to tell her that he loves her – that he loves them all, his found-family, small and crazy and perfect; that even though they fling themselves into danger side by side, all he wants is for them to be safe. 

He settles instead for, “I’m supposed to be asking you that. Fuck, Kono, I’m the boss, I’m supposed to take bullets for you, not the other way around.”

She smiles, a slow and patient little quirk of her lips, and for all his finely-honed intelligence, for all the years that he has on her, he feels like she’s far wiser than he’ll ever hope to be.

“Don’t know what ass-backwards cop manual you’ve been reading, but, respectfully, fuck that shit.”

Three sets of eyebrows rise, stunned and amused and oh so grateful for her fire – one of her best kept secrets, cultivated from a life of midnight-surfing and bonfires on the beach, is that she swears like… well, like a sailor on leave. 

But she’s a professional, she knows that there’s a time and a place – and this, apparently, suits her criteria just nicely.

Drawn to her, drawn to Chin and Danny curled up protectively by her bed, he takes a step forward, breathes in deeply.

“I - Kono - I-” it’s all he gets out before his throat goes dry. He wants to tell her that he loves her, that he’s glad she’s okay, that he’s grateful for what she did, but he can’t quite get the words out. He’s just starting to feel angry with himself, when all three of them smile at him, indulgent and patient. 

(Even though Danny, twinkle in his eye, is muttering something about him being a hopeless Neanderthal. How did your brain conquer human speech, and so on and so forth.)

Steve sighs when Chin takes pity on him. “She knows, brah.”

The anger fades almost as immediately as it arrived. He shifts forward, locates her right foot - an endearing little jut beneath the pale pink knit of her hospital blanket. 

Gently, he rests his hand over her ankle, warm skin to warm wool, and the room falls to comfortable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to find me over on tumblr, I am [ibyshire.](http://ibyshire.tumblr.com/) I don't bite! :D


End file.
